


56

by JayJav



Category: Outlast (Video Games), Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood, Horror, Lindsey I love you but Michael’s Gay right now, M/M, Mavin, More tags to be added because of spoiler reasons, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slow Burn, Swearing, The Sims, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Trauma, outlast - Freeform, sao, videogameboyfriends, violent depictions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-11 20:56:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15324135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayJav/pseuds/JayJav
Summary: Player: Michael JonesAge: 30Attributes: Physically robust, Strong-willed, BraveWeaknesses: Impaired vision, Slow reaction, Slow reflexes.Player: Gavin FreeAge: 29.Attributes: Quick-witted, IntelligentWeaknesses: Easily scared, Physically weak, Weak-willedBeta 56-Byron





	1. Beta 56: Run I

**Author's Note:**

> Log Data: Beta Michael Jones and Beta Gavin Free work for Achievement Hunter, founding members, as ‘video gamers’.  
> May log more Betas from this company. 
> 
> -Byron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New beginnings.

Michael could really only be angry at himself as he began to stir and familiar sharp pains dug into his temples. His mouth was dry and his head hurt like hell. He probably fell asleep on the couch again.

 

He really shouldn’t have drank last night.

...

What the fuck?...

Michael begrudgingly budged his eyes open and pushed himself up.

He didn’t drink last night. He had been face down on the fucking pavement. A dull annoying throb was settling into the back of his head.

Fuck off.  

Michael wiped the grit from his face before completely stumbling to his feet.

“Oh shit! Gavin!” Michael yelped, noticing his coworker not ten feet away. The Brit was face down, the same position he had been in. “Gavin. Gavin. You little shit. I swear to God.”

”Mmm...”

“Jesus Gavin. Wake up.”

”Michael?” The Brit mumbled. “Wha-?..” Fear settled into Gavin’s heart like poison slivering through his veins, urging him to spring to his feet. “Michael! What! What’s going on Michael!” The lad cried hysterically.

”Gavin! Gavin!” Michael gripped his shoulders so he couldn’t freak out and run away. “Can you calm the fuck down? Look at me!”

”O-okay...where are we Michael? Did you do this?”

”Yes. I knocked you out and dragged you into the middle of butt-fuck no where Gavin. You figured it out.” Michael snides. “I don’t know where we are or who brought us here so just be quiet okay?”

Gavin’s eyes flicked every which way, surveying where he was and looking like he could jump out of his skin.

“I’m scared Michael..”

“I know. We’ll figure this out. Besides, I bet that whatever pussy knocked me out in my sleep couldn’t take me while I was awake.”

Gavin’s lips quirked into a tiny smile and a couple of Michael’s nerves settled instantly.

“You’re right Michael boi.”

Behind them was a booth. It looked like it hadn’t been touched in at least a decade, but if they could just find like a phone or some shit that would be great right now.

A surge of wicked wind wracked Gavin’s frame.

“Jesus. This doesn’t bloody feel like we’re in Texas Michael. If I didn’t know better, I’d think we were back in England.”

“It’s Texas. Not Africa Gavin. It’s not that weird for it to be windy. Besides, it’s probably like eleven at night, of course it’s freezing.”

“Oh! Michael look!” Gavin squawked.

“Shhh.”

“Oh! Oh right. Right. Quiet. I’m quiet now.But look Michael, it’s a camera.”

The ginger bent down slightly in the crowded space of the booth.

“Yeah, and a shitty camera at that. Who the fuck uses this anymore?” Michael was too distracted with what the camera looked like while the Brit looked around. There was something chilling about this place. Not the fact that they were possibly kidnapped. But...because it’s so vaguely familiar. And so vaguely not.

“Say hi Gavin!”

Michael was waving into the camera with a scrunched up face and three chins. Habitually, Gavin turned and went cross eyed, sticking his tongue out awkwardly.

They held their pose for a couple seconds before turning the camera back around.

Gavin almost fell out of the booth when he tripped on something.

Michael was in the middle of laughing at his friend when he notices a battery on the floor, jacketed with a fluorescent yellow wrapper.

“Oh god.”

“What’s that?”

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.” Michael shoved past Gavin and ran out of the booth. He jogged down the pavement maybe fifty feet before twin columns peaked into view.

Michael could’ve cried.

“This...this is. This is fucking impossible!” He wailed.

“Michael! What’s going on with you. You ran off like a silly twat.” Gavin giggled at his own insult.

For once, Michael was shocked into silence.

“Michael? What’s going o–“ Gavin took a closer look at the mansion Michael had been staring at. A man appeared in one of the windows up high with beady yellow eyes that shined like a cat’s in the night before just as quickly disappearing.

A shriek so blood curdling left Gavin’s throat it had left his tonsils raw and his head floating.

Michael snapped out of it. A frown set deep on his face.

“Gavin. Gavin! Listen to me! Look! It’s me!” He tried to quite literally shake his friend out of it but Gavin was petrified. He was quaking and Michael could practically hear Gavin’s erratic imagination.

He held the Brit tightly, silently, until the shaking stopped.

“Michael...what are we going to do. I can’t do it Michael. I can’t–“

“Gavin. I don’t know how. I don’t know if you’re dreaming or if I’m dreaming. But I’m not gonna leave you alone. We’ll be okay Gav.”

“Are you sure we can’t just slit our throats and be done with it?”

“Shut up. We’re not killing ourselves.”

Gavin abruptly pulled away, shifting his weight away from Michael.

“Check the camera. Maybe there’s something on it.”

“Oh shit yeah.”

The first clip is of a couple of girls. They looked about twice as silly as Michael and Gavin, but also twice as strong as the two of them combined.

“Kayla! That was my thigh you jerk!” She giggled.

“Whatever.” The other one tried to play off cool.

It was a couple minutes of them just fooling around while walking down the pavement before the video clicked off.

“Well that was helpful.”

“You ready, Gav?”

“I guess.” The Brit mumbled solemnly.

Unlike the video game, they simply pushed the gate open.

“That was easy.”

“It’s going to be the only easy part.”

They walked toward the familiar hardcore parkour and began climbing.

“You know, I have to give it to Miles Sherwood or whatever the fuck his name was. He had Nathan Drake fingers AND he always had this fucking camera in his hands. Really, where the fuck am I suppose to put this while I’m jumping.”

“Maybe he put it up his ass.”

“Every time he jumped?” Michael laughed.

“Yeah, he has to keister stash the camera for every jump and shimmy he does.”

Upon Gavin’s request, Michael climbed into the window first. His first reaction was to look around, as if he could force his eyes to pierce the void of pitch black. His heart beat caught in his throat and his ears tuned in to what felt everything within miles.

“Jesus.” He muttered. The atmosphere really settled in.

Gavin had one foot within the window before appearing to trip over absolutely nothing. He flailed for a second before falling on his face.

“Ouch. Michael, how come you didn’t catch me?”

“Because if I tried to catch you every time you tripped, I’d have a full time job.”

“That’s not true!”

“Gavin, how many times do I have to say shut the fuck up, honestly,” he chuckled. “I’m just gonna start hitting you.”

Michael pulled up the camera and they came to the sudden realization. Miles Upshur did not have two sets of eyes to look through this camera. Michael and Gavin had to squeeze in close to really survey the area together.

“This is ass.” The redhead grumbled. They checked out the room before moving on to the hallway. Michael peaked his head out one way while Gavin looked down the other. There was nobody there but echoing footsteps and vague yells for help that travelled with it.

Most of the rooms were not locked, which, Michael could appreciate the realism in that but it made everything a lot fucking harder to figure out.

The last room was completely dark beside the light that leaked through the doorway and a computer screen on the other side. They treaded carefully before inspecting the ancient technology. There was a wire that had the same fluorescent yellow wrapper as the battery Michael had found earlier and took the hint.

“Where does this–?”

“Here, let me see it. It plugs in over here.”

Gavin plugged the camera in and the computer prompted them to download avideo.

“So my name is Jess,” the redhead lass began, waving again at the camera, she had about 20 bracelets hat jangled when she waved. “And the dumb blonde over there is Kayla.” They were walking and talking. Kayla, who looked like she had legs of steel, shown off with short shorts and some sick custom converse was walking ahead.

“I thought that, if we’re going to die in Outlast, I might as well document my findings. So! I’m 25, I work at Target, and I like to play video games. Your turn Kayla!”

“I’m Kayla and I don’t give a fuck.”

“She’s grumpy, 26, and works out a bunch.”

“I still think this is your fault. You’re the one that played the game.”

“That doesn’t make it my fault...” the girl says quietly so just the camera can hear.

The video cuts off.

“So...I guess these are the people before us?”

“Maybe they made it out of here and this is their guide.”

‘Or this really is the documentary of their deaths.’ Michael thought to himself, not wanting to scare Gavin.

“Maybe.” He said dismissively.

Michael and Gavin heard a crash behind them. The older lad darted to the door and peaked down the hallway.

“Oh shit. Gavin, we gotta go.”

“What’s out there Mi–“

“He’s dead! He’s dead! He will find you.” A patient rambled and smashed into the walls repeatedly like a bouncing ball. “He will find you! He will find you! HE WILL FIND YOU!” He said whipping his sights to Michael’s peaking head.

“Let’s go!”

Michael grabbed Gavin’s hand and sprinted into the room across the hall, slamming the door behind him.

Gavin didn’t miss a beat despite the terror and began climbing into the ventilation. Michael scrambled up after him, practically bashing his chest into the edge of the shaft as Gavin pawed to help him up. They watched from above as the patient bust through the door. The variant looks up and seemingly pierces through them.

“He will find you.”

Michael leaves the vent first followed by Gavin who he has to catch before the Brit gets the chance to break his own neck.

“What in the bloody hell was that?!” Gavin yells out. “That was nothing like when we played Outlast at the office! None of that happened! First we get stuck in this hell hole and now, what we know doesn’t even F’ing apply because it’s different! It’s all different! Michael I can’t! I just can’t do this. Not again. My heart can’t take it...I...I’m so scared and...”

“Gavvers.” Michael whispers. He let his friend rant. Taking the risk that nothing was coming to get them...yet. “I know. I’m scared too. I won’t let any of them touch you.” Michael tried. “Boi, look at me.”

Gavin’s eyes, pained with unshed tears, wrench up to Michael’s.

“I won’t let any of them fucking touch you. Do you believe me?”

...

“Yes. But if you die I’m slitting my throat.”

“Only if I die. If you don’t see me dead, like I’m talking, walking up and checking my heartbeat or see my guts pulled out. You have to be 100% sure I’m gone before you slit your throat. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. Fuckin’ Gav slitty over here. He’ll slit your throat and his own.”

Gavin laughed at the weak joke and grabbed the camera.

“Let’s get going. The quicker we go the faster we can leave.”

“Atta’ boi. So,” Michael begins listing, “What we’ve learned so far is that most things are not the same. We don’t get files as far as we know, we get video logs from maybe past inductees? Prisoners?”

“And the lunes are wild cards.”

“Right. And the wild lunes.”

The hallway they were in was well lit.

“Oh god, that little pig guy is probably comin’ up soon.”

“Shit, I forgot about him.”

They followed the small hallway. It was a dead end other than the one door labeled ‘Library’.

The Lads braced themselves for what could be on the other side.

Seeing the gory sight on a computer screen was one thing. Smelling and witnessing it in person was a whole other happening. As they opened the door, a corpse swung at them, catching Gavin by surprise. The decapitated man was oozing by the neck and sprayed the tiniest bit on the Brit, nonetheless Gavin was gagging.

 

“Bloody he-“

 

His stomach lurched at the sight. Michael in all honesty wasn’t fairing much better. He had been in fights, even knocked out a couple teeth. But to be up close and personal with...something that was once a human.

Michael, being the kind gentleman he was, held back the body so that Gavin could step through.

“Christ alive, this is horrid.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad.”

They squished together to look through the night vision camera.

Gavin made it all of 30 seconds before vomiting.

Thank god it was just vomit and not his whole lunch.

“Keep your stomach down Gav, you might need all the energy you can get.”

The most eerie part of the room was the spike, that, within the game held a still suffering man. But without the body on it, the spike held a bad taste in their mouths. The unexpected was far more dreadful than something you could outright see.

They moved on quickly. Tracking blood with them was an added bonus of being in the game as real human rather than as Miles.

“Great.”

They came upon a small crack within a pile of junk and broken shelves.

“You first Gav. If he grabs one of us, it’ll be m–“

“Little pig! Little pig!” Chris walker was sprinting down the short roundabout hallway which could not be long enough.

“Go! Go! Go!” Michael smushed Gavin through the small opening before following him out. Michael was just out of the Varient’s reach when he pulled through.

The red head couldn’t tell if he should whoop with victory or cry but he didn’t have time to as Chris Walker bowled over the measly pile of junk.

Michael screamed his lungs out. Gavin attempted to tug Michael from the floor but his knees buckled under his weight and frazzled nerves. Chris Walker was snatching them by the necks. Gavin tried to yell but air came out in practically a whistle while big sausage fingers gripped his esophagus.

Michael was trying to pry the fingers off to no avail. He was losing feeling in his toes and fingers.

‘This is it.’ They both thought as their visions were edged with obscurity and Chris Walker is chucking them through thick opaque glass that feels like a punch to the head.

Gavin remembers the rush of air to his unleashed throat that is equally as painful to the land 15 feet below.The rotten boards break their fall, smashing under them.

Michael remembers Gavin. The terrified look in his eyes. He also remembers the small rise and fall of his chest.

He’ll survive.

Michael and Gavin were on Cloud 9. Who knew how long their consciousness had been out before they were waking up in unison. In their own beds. In their own homes.

And suddenly, the loneliness of not having the other beside them eats them up inside.

They were back home...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’m only going to do notes at the end of Chapters because I feel like notes at the beginning is like nagging and breaks the immersion.  
> Hello! I’m JayJav! This is my first fic and it’s been a while since I updated. I plan to add more tags and add where the inspiration of this work spawned from. Comment any misspells or mistakes! And don’t be afraid to give criticism! It helps a lot!


	2. Beta 56: Run II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beta 56: Night II

****Michael didn’t sleep more than ten minutes at a time before his alarm was going off for work.

 

“Fuck...” was that all a dream? One long life-scarring dream?

 

He didn’t want to think about it too hard.

 

Michael walked into the master bath and flicked on the light.

 

“Oh...Fuck.”

 

There was a large bruise slanted across his chest and more dark spots that peppered his neck. Michael’s hand came up to blanket where Chris Walker had gripped him. Small cuts here and there were just barely scabbing from when he was thrown.

 

‘Gavin.’ His mind whispered, and he was rushing to his bedside, sifting through the end table for his phone.

 

His thumbs tapped away the passcode but hesitated above the Brit’s contact.

 

What if...what if Gavin hadn’t been through the same thing. What if it was just him...

 

“No.” He audibly dismissed before calling his friend.

 

It rang enough times to give Michael a heart attack but eventually the line picked up.

 

“Gavin?”

 

“Michael?”

 

Michael sighed. He was okay.

 

There was a long silence. As if both of them didn’t know what to say, yet hadn’t needed the words anyways.

 

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

 

“You too.”

 

Gavin’s voice was weak. As if he were a scared child. It made Michael’s heart surge and he swayed on the balls of his feet.

 

“Are you going to work?” The tiny voice spoke again.

 

“Yeah...” Michael’s voice was a husk of his usual. “You?”

 

“I’ll see you there.”

 

“Wait for me?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Neither had the guts to hang up the phone.

 

“I gotta get ready Gav.”

 

The sound was...so silky to Gavin’s ears. So safe. So comforting.

 

“You sure?”

 

Michael found himself chuckling.

 

“Yes Gavin. Let’s not be that sickening couple.”

 

“No, youuuu hang up.” Gavin slurred.

 

“No, you.”

 

“I hate us.”

 

“Me too, I’ll see you at work. Okay Gavvers?”

 

“Okay Mi-cool.”

 

Gavin’s accent was thick. Maybe from just waking up. Maybe his nerves were shaking him. Either way, it made Michael’s ears perk to every tone in the others words.

 

_Click._

 

God did this suck. If Michael thought too hard about it, he could’ve cried. His body was aching, they had no clue why it happened or if it would happen again. How long it this would go on.

 

He could only imagine how messed up Gavin must be...

 

Michael, being the star that he was, covered up the visible bruises with makeup. He didn’t like caking his neck, but he really had no explanation nor patience for people’s questions.

 

He spent extra time trying not to look like he got hit by a truck, and rushing to work.

 

Rushing to see Gavin.

 

Gavin, on the other hand, did not try half as hard to cover up last nights endeavors.

 

His eyes had heavy bags under them and dark splotches coiled his neck. Even a minuscule cut to his cheek.

 

“How did I know you wouldn’t fucking cover that up, come here...god damn idiot.” Michael didn’t think twice and snatched up Gavin’s hand.

 

“Well a hello would’ve been nice Micool.”

 

“If someone sees you like that, they’re gonna think you got mugged or some shit.”

 

“I don’t care what other people think.”

 

Michael scoffed at that reply. How careless of Gavin. He dragged them into the upstairs bathroom and dumped his makeup onto the counter.

 

“I know you’re tan as fuck, but this is gonna have to do for now.”

 

Michael took big globs and rubbed into Gavin’s skin.

 

“Not so rough Micool...”

 

“Sorry, but can you be a little less, I don’t know, stupid about it?”

 

...

 

The boys took a moment to revel in...well being alive. They came face to fucking face with pig fucker Chris Walker. They...they’ve seen decapitated SWAT members and enough gore that will be forever burned into their memories. On top of that, it’s only been one night.

 

“So what do you think?”

 

“About what?”

 

“Do you think...we’re gonna have to go back.”

 

Michael’s lips pressed into a hard line, not wanting to break the other’s heart.

 

“Yeah, I do. I don’t...it doesn’t make sense to be put in a video game for one day. I think we’ll be forced into that game until we finish it. Or maybe into a different one. Either way, we’re probably not done.”

 

Gavin seemed to expect that answer, and for once, didn’t become suicidally depressed about the situation.

 

“If it happens again, we call out of work and we stay at your house.”

 

“Why my house?”

 

“Because my apartment looks like a bachelor’s shit show.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Ok–“

 

Knock. Knock. Knock.

 

“Somebody in there?”

 

“I’m taking a shit. Go down stairs!”

 

Michael and Gavin break out into twin chuckles as they here someone on the others side curse and walk off.

 

“Someone’s gonna think I’m sucking you off.”

 

“Please Gavin, don’t make assumptions. They could think that **_I’m_**  sucking **_you_**  off.”

 

“You’re being a real sausage.”

 

“You’re being a real sausage.” Michael mocked an extra octave high before pushing Gavin out the bathroom door.

 

                   *****

 

The most dreadful part of going to sleep was not knowing what would happen. The next night had been completely ‘normal’. By all means neither of them had gotten a wink of sleep, but there was no Outlast endeavors. In fact, the night after that, and the nights after that were normal too.

 

“Jack what are we doing!” Michael yelped, successfully starting a recording for Dead by Daylight.

 

Michael doesn’t remember the responding enthusiasm of Jack. He doesn’t remember anything as his head lifts. He’s back at the first floor of Mount Massive Asylum. Ass sunken into the rotten floorboards.

 

“And who are you then?” A bald man with hollow features crouched above Gavin. “You must be the new apostles. Will you be the last witnesses? God has given you a calling.”

 

Michael’s consciousness faded again, despite his protests.

 

The next time he awoke, Gavin was straddling him.

 

“Gavin, what the fuck are you doing?”

 

“Michael, you were out for a long time. Like, I was waiting for at least ten minutes.”

 

“Ten minutes isn’t a lot in the normal life of literally anybody else but Gavin, now get the fuck off me.”

 

Gavin was shoved off of the older Lad, squawking and plopping to the ground beak first. Michael handed him the camera when he regained balance, not that they needed the night vision anymore. It was still well lit in this room which was only slightly comforting. Slightly. It also meant they had so much more murky dank walls and carnage to see.

 

They search the main room for anything. A battery, a clue to what the fuck is going on. Michael tries to keep a level head but it’s hard when Gavin’s checking over his shoulder for the thousandth time like a paranoid crack head.

 

“Fuckin’ yoink. Two more batteries bitch.”

 

“You callin’ me a bitch?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“Fair enough.”

 

There’s a line of computers but no videos to download so they move on. Gavin’s whole face tensed almost painfully as they proceed.

 

“What? What’s wrong?”

 

Michael’s question was answered itself when they rounded the corner.

 

The older Lad glances back at his boy. He was fucking shaking. Quaking in his booties.

 

‘Fuck it.’

 

“Oi! Oi bruv mate!”

 

“Michael!” Gavin gasped.

 

Michael approached the limp character with his chest puffed and arms waving dramatically.

 

“Come on then! Come on you little bitch bastard!”

 

“Michael! What are you doing! You lune!”

 

“I just wanted to show you Gav, even you, a helpless British bitch can survive with a little bit of bravery. Now you try it.”

 

“Michael. No.”

 

“Gavin, do it.”

 

“No.”

 

“What if we got got separated, and you can’t move on because I didn’t teach you how to be a bad ass?”

 

“I die a noble death. Starvation.”

 

“Gavin.” He deadpans.

 

...

 

Gavin mumbles under his breath before finally approaching the...thing in the wheel chair.

 

“Piss off...piss off, piss off, piss off.” He curses while skirting around the character.

 

“Ayyye! You did it!”

 

Gavin clutched his heart.

 

“Never. Never again.”

 

“Alright, but hey, I’m proud of you.”

 

Gavin is more than happy when Michael takes the lead into the next area. A blood splattered TV hisses while three...patients?... stare at the monitor insipidly. They don’t seem very variant like. Gavin slaps his hand to Michael’s as they skirt around the room.

 

God. Who’s to say the variants won’t come after them or if they’ll be stagnant like the original play through. The whole animosity of it had them both flinching and growing ever more touchy to each moment and sound.

 

They crouched under oddly placed boards in the doorframe and darted into the next room. Again, only a computer screen lit the room and outlines another lifeless figure. Michael fishes a soaked keycard off of him and wipes it off on the near curtain.

 

Another prompt to download a video.

 

“Jess...”

 

“Kayla, it’s alright. It’s just a video game and these guys don’t ev–“

 

“Oh fuck!” Kayla shouts. Jess is interrupted when one of the three variants full on sprints at the couple of boys. Jess darts forward knowing full well that they still needed the key card while Kayla is launching to where they had just entered from.

 

Michael is marginally impressed when wheel chair guy surges at Kayla who’s still holding the camera and socks the guy with her left elbow. The figure crumpled to the ground whining. “It could be you. Let us out. Let us out.”

 

The video cuts.

 

“Michael, maybe these people were just here!”

 

“Possibly, but if the video was shot already then they’ve probably progressed way more than we have already.”

 

“Let’s hurry then, yeah?”

 

“Yah boi.”

 

Unlike the girls on video, Michael nor Gavin were attacked by any of the variants. Wheel chair guy did clamber all over the tall Lad which was frankly hilarious.

 

“Oh shit I’m gonna piss my pants. He can’t hurt you dumb ass.”

 

“He’s gonna give my herps’ Michael! Get him off!”

 

After wandering around for longer than it should’ve taken them, the boys set down a long exposingly lit hall that Gavin recognizes immediately. They cut their losses and head straight to the security door instead of looking around. Michael has to re-wipe the key card because it’s so god damn bloody to the point of disfunction. They don’t flinch at the sight of another dead guard or “They failed” written in blood.

 

“Do you, like, need some time to not shit your pants? We know shits gonna hit the fan so.”

 

“Nah. I want it over with.”

 

“Alrighty.”

 

Michael -unlike Upshur- does not know what he’s doing. Wasting more time until he finally remembers that he needs to shut down the ‘Security System’. It’s only an ‘Okay’ ‘Next’ and pressing enter a couple times before Father Martin is on the monitor flipping a giant switch.

 

They take one last look at the lockers before the lights cut.

 

“Oh fuck.” Michael’s shoulders barely fit in the narrow locker but he manages.

 

Gavin isn’t so lucky. He’s too tall to fit in the locker.

 

He wants to yelp for his boy but the thundering sound of Chris Walker’s meaty feet is traveling closer leaving a lump in Gavin’s throat. There’s no time to think, only act.

 

 

He uses all the adrenaline in his body to lift up the security guard and slide under the corpse. He makes himself as small as possible and shimmies closer between the wall and the potted plant.

 

The door is bucking wildly and the sound feels like it’s emerging right from Gavin’s ear drums.

 

“Little pig, little pig. You were here, weren’t you?”

 

The unwilling sound of hinges squeaking feels like a gunshot to Gavin. If Chris didn’t smell him, he might just hear his booming pulse.

 

Michael watches in horror as the only other locker in the room is yanked open, even jostling his own locker. The red head recoils when a scream hasn’t emerged. Unsure of wether to jump out yet and attack.

 

“I’ll find all you whores...”

 

The rattling chains and ragged breathing dissipate down the hall.

 

Michael waits an eternity before cautiously pushing open the locker door with all of the dexterity in the world.

 

“Gavin?...” he whispers in the slightest tone.

 

Michael all but jumps out of his skin when the slumped security guard falls over revealing a bloody Gavin who’s gagging and coughing up a storm.

 

“Holy shit Gavin, are you alright? Oh my god. Oh my god that was insane.” The older Lad rushes to his boy with a hand grounded on either of his shoulders.

 

“Good thing he’s not to bright.” Gavin manages before puking all over Michael’s shoes.

 

Gavin expects a string of cusses or maybe to be called an idiot but when he finally gets the strength and wits to look up Michael’s beaming down at him.

 

“That was awesome. You were awesome Gav.”

 

“I didn’t fit in the locker...” he croaks.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t help. I swear if I had known-“

 

“I know Michael. It’s okay.”

 

“Did you shit your pants? I know if it were me I would’ve puked, pissed and shit myself so.”

 

Gavin manages to laugh despite it all.

 

“Help me up?”

 

“Course boi.” Gavin has to put most of his weight on Michael, swaying until his strength is relatively stable. “Let’s keep going, I’d rather not find out if he returns or not.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Carefully, they sneak down the hallway that’s impossibly darker than before. Somehow, by absolutely pure fucking luck, they get to the stairs pretty quickly and the previously locked door is mysteriously open, greeting them with a complete black void. 

 

It feels like they’ve been here an eternity when in all actuality, they’ve accomplished the equivalent of ten minutes tops of progression. The whole encounter really took a toll on Gavin, his body protesting in displeasure for walking any further.

 

Michael let’s Gavin take the camera again, hoping to comfort the Brit with first dibs on the night vision.

 

Their shoes are immediately soaked through and their echoed sloshing footsteps startle the both of them.

 

“Wh-who’s there? I’ll hurt you. I’m not afraid of dying, not anymore. I can’t be.”

 

They both duck down, stunned into stillness for several moments.

 

With a single battery to spare, they link together while treading the dark void.

 

Michael makes the mistake of feeling out the left wall to keep his bearings, deciding not to comment on the sordid brick and focus on keeping his lunch down.

 

Once and a while they would stop and just listen to the sloshing. Gavin flashed the night vision fleetingly but enough to find a set of steps.

 

Bare thighs hung from the sealing, briefly reminding them of animal carcasses in a butcher shop. More dead bodies.

 

They come upon the first pump and thank Christ because there’s only one more. A barefoot man with a spiked bat is breaking through the door.

 

Gavin slides under the bed while Michael hides in a locker.

 

The variant stands dementedly, menacingly pacing the room before leaving.

 

“Ok, let’s go.” Michael finally says after they’re sure the sloshing is far away.

 

They creep toward the doorway when banging assumes the room, steadily getting louder.

 

“What’s happening? What’s happening? Gavin,” he whimpers hysterically. “Gavin I don’t know where to go! I’m so scared! Fuck...fuck...”

 

Michael takes a shot in the dark, deciding that moving forward is better than being sitting ducks.

 

“This sucks...”

 

The flooded halls are like mazes. The usual guiding light in Outlast is no where to be found as they stumble around.

 

Michael happens upon a switch.

 

“Fucking great. Perfect. Got my fucking hopes up like a bitch for a stupid switch.” A green light turns on indicating that power was back up.

 

A soft groaning has the both of them picking up pace. Michael eases the door shut before locking it behind them.

 

“You have no where to hide Gavin. No where to hide.” Michael whines frantically.

 

They use the camera to look around.

 

“Give me a lift boi, up here.”

 

Michael offers his hands for Gavin to step on and climb up on this big rusty box. It was too thin for Gavin to comfortably sit on, leaving his lanky legs peaking over the edge slightly.

 

The door busted open while Michael crept into one of the lockers.

 

That small green light in the room outlines Gavin just enough and the patient locks his eyes to the Brit within a few seconds.

 

“Ahhhh! Michael! Michael he sees me!”

 

The patient swings at Gavin with brutal force, the wind of it tickling his knees.

 

Michael darts out of the locker and toward the shelf. He grabs the biggest bottle he can find and lobs it at the opposing man.

 

“Come and get me pussy!” The Jersey man shouts before sprinting out the room.

 

Gavin watches as the variant chases after Michael for a few moments before his instincts kick in.

 

Save boy.

 

“Gavin! Find the pump!” Michael cries hopelessly. Hoping that Gavin was already started. He’s running in circles around the main area, too scared that if Michael were to vary to any other hallway, he would hit a dead end.

 

 

“I found it!” Gavin chirps but Michael is tiring after several minutes of sprinting. “Hit the main control!”

 

Gavin’s voice edges him forward. His aching feet push faster toward the controls and bounding back out of there.

 

“This way boy!”

 

Gavin gazes helpless as the variant swings and misses within centimeters of Michael.

 

“Go! Go! Go!” Michael encourages the other when he catches up close. They round the corner, then another. Over the desk and Gavin’s sliding though the crack. Michael makes the same mistake he had in the video game, staring up at a vent.

 

Gavin snatched his arm and pulled as hard as he could but the variant was far too close and whacks Michael.

 

Sharp pains shoot up and down Michael’s back, jolting his limbs into submission. Nails that were bent every which way rake over Michael’s skin devastating the muscle.

 

The red head was in shock as he’s pulled through the wall and falling to the floor.

 

“Boy! Boy! Oh flip!” Gavin wails. He squirms out from under Michael to find the Lad passed out, bleeding out and raggedly breathing. “Oh Christ alive. What do I do? What do I do!” He asked aloud as if Michael would wake up and tell him.

 

Gavin tossed off his shirt and began putting pressure on the wound. That’s what he was suppose to do, wasn’t it? Put pressure on the wound. But it seemed as though Michael was spraying blood by the gallons.

 

“Please. You...you gotta be alright. Michael. Please wake up. Please.”

 

The only color on Michael’s white face were the freckles, now standing out impossibly. God, he could barely feel a pulse. Gavin felt like his whole world was crumbling. He couldn’t do this alone. He didn’t want to do anything without Michael.

 

The flood gates opened and Gavin was praying for him to be alright, pleading for it to be alright.

 

“Gavin?” A gentle voice called.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Hope you enjoyed the new chapter! I plan to progressively make each chapter longer and longer as well as picking a set day of the week to upload these so that whoever reads these religiously (no body) can look forward to it! If you have any suggestions, see something OOC, mispells or incorrect grammar, please let me know! I’m always up for it!


	3. Beta 62: Run I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Player: James Ryan Haywood  
> Age: 38 Attributes: Highly Intelligent , Highly Skilled and Physically Fit Weaknesses: Somehow Clueless despite Intelligence, Loses Control after High Irritation
> 
> Player: Jeremy Dooley  
> Age: 27 Attributes: Physically Robust, Adept, Skilled in Most Things he Tries  
> Weaknesses: Inconsistent Personality--Can become Insane or extremely Empathetic  
> \--Can be the most Modest or the most Smug
> 
> Players fit their Beta roles perfectly.
> 
> Beta 62
> 
> -Byron

A wave of nausea washed over Ryan, disappearing as soon as it came.

 

“What was that?” He asked aloud despite no body else being in the room. Whatever happened, it was already over, so the Gent quickly disregarded it and continued his work.

 

That was the last box. He’s finally all moved in to his new house! Ryan’s never had a house before, just dingy apartments. Though, this house is looking just as dingy...

 

_Ding. Dong._

 

Oh, a doorbell. That was new, he hasn’t heard a doorbell in a long time, but who could that be? He didn’t know anybody in this town.

 

It was the neighbors.

 

“Sul Sul! Waskee ba ah orbo!”

 

~Hi! Welcome to the neighborhood!~ The brunette man greeted friendly.

 

‘What?’ Ryan was more than freaked out. Partly because he’s unsure what country he’s in. An extreme anxiety like he fucked up somewhere and now he’s trapped in a foreign land was sort of one of his worst nightmares. The other part he’s freaked about is...how could he understand a language he’s never heard? 

 

“Wa corfa fe bor!” 

~I like your home!~ The blonde woman compliments. 

 

“Thank you!” He finds himself saying back.

 

”Sul Sul! Ma Frank!”

~Hello! I’m Frank!~

 

“Hello Frank!” 

 

All of them had unrealistically smooth skin and silky hair that seemed to shine no matter the lighting or angle of it. He wasn’t used to this level of neighborliness but, hell, who was he to be rude?

 

Ryan was instantly gravitating to Frank, offering conversation effortlessly. 

 

“You’re very pretty!” He told the blonde woman. 

 

She blushed and turned away, but very clearly happy with his comment. Ryan on the other hand, was not.

 

Why the hell would he say that? He doesn’t know or particularly care for this woman at all.

 

”Your eyes are beautiful.”

He said confidently to her in front of the other two neighbors who appearingly didn’t flinch at the comment.

 

The blonde flushed again, batting her eyes wildly at Ryan.

 

What? What’s going on? 

 

“I’m sorry but you all have to go home, my house is not ready for guests yet.” Which is true, thank God he could at least say one thing right.

 

But again, Ryan found himself convincing Veronica, that was her name he found out, to stay a little longer and talk. By the end of the night she was flirting back and for a second Ryan thought she might make a move. To his discomfort...he made the move himself. Snuggling in and capturing her soft pink lips and slotting them against his own. He had ideas of massaging Veronica, making out and...and woohooing with her.

 

Everything in him wanted to puke. To scream or cry...but all Ryan felt was...happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo this is a little different right? Beta 62 will be shorter than the Outlast chapters and usually in pairing with another chapter since it’s so short. I promise all chapters are canonical to the story!
> 
> If you have any criticism, see any mispells, notice something OOC or have any suggestions please comment!


	4. Beta 56: Run III—Part 1

“Gavin?” A gentle voice called.

 

Gavin strained his eyes up to whoever it was.

 

Ryan.

 

Baby blue eyes welcomed Gavin back to the real world. And it was a sight for sore eyes after all that destruction and foul smells and—and...Michael. Emotions were overwhelming him all over until all he could do was sob brokenly.

 

“Hey, hey. Gavin. It’s alright,” Ryan hushed, encircling Gavin in built yet incredibly and incredulously soft arms. “He’s alright Gavin. I know it looks bad, but it wasn’t nearly as deep as Burnie thought. It’s all patched up buddy.”

 

“Michael’s alright?”

 

“Of course he is.”

 

Gavin chewed his lip, gaze flicking over Ryan’s features.

 

“Ryan?...What...what happened to Michael?”

 

“Are you saying that you don’t remember?”

 

Gavin looked like a beat dog to Ryan. Like if he spoke to loud it might shatter the Lad.

 

“You guys were shooting an immersion. Do you...remember?”

 

Gavin shook his head after a couple moments.

 

The Gent decided not to comment on Gavin’s peculiar memory. He already looked wrecked.

 

To Gavin, Ryan looked exhausted. As if he had even less sleep than he and Michael had captured this last week.

 

“Are you okay Ryan?”

 

“I’ll be okay Gavin.”

 

“...can we hug longer? Just until Michael wakes up?”

 

“Sure.”

 

                       ***

 

“Are you here for Michael Jones?”

 

“Yes,” Ryan answered. “We’re all here for Michael.”

 

The nurse blinked at the harem of male visitors for Michael.

 

“Two of you can enter.”

 

“Well that’s bull shit, every time I’ve gone to a hospital, it’s been at least three visitors.” Jack bitches.

 

“Sir, it’s just the hospital gui-“

 

“Listen, you can deal with us now? Or Michael Jones later. And trust me, you do not want the second option.” Ryan retorted. His fuse was shorter than usual and the low tones of his voice had the nurse flustered and complying to his demand.

 

Geoff, Gavin, Ryan and Jack went in first.

 

Michael was staring up at the ceiling blearily. Gavin could almost see the haunted images behind those eyes.

 

“I see they put you on some painkillers.” Geoff commented.

 

“Hey guys,” Michael finally snapped out of it to greet them. Gavin felt their anxiety fill the room instantaneously. Although, Michael was much better at masking it than he was.

 

“Hey buddy,”

 

“Hey Michael!”

 

“What happened out there man?”

 

Michael shrugged, “I don’t know what went wrong.”

 

“Well what’s gonna happen to the video?” Jack badgered.

 

“I hope they put it up after all that trouble, the fans really wanted a Happy Wheels immersion.”

 

“Yeah, so did I.”

 

Every once and a while, Michael would catch Gavin’s eye and just...smile. It was being consumed by exhaustion and grief. But all the same, it settled Gavin every time.

 

Jack was nice enough to let Trevor come visit in his place and then Jeremy who was unbelievably supportive of Michael. Asking if his fellow Lad needed water, a snack, maybe to tell off Gavin for him.

 

“Gavin, where the hell were you when all of this happened.”

 

The blood drained from the Brits face. The intensity in the room could be cut with a knife despite Jeremy not meaning it in an aggressive way.

 

“If it weren’t for Gav, there’s no doubt in my mind I would’ve been toast.”

 

Everyone kinda stood in disbelief.

 

“Not to be rude to any of you, I really appreciate all the support and it’s been nice but I’ve got to talk to Gavin alone.”

 

“Doctor said no fuckin’ for at least a week.” Geoff chimed before he exiting last.

 

It only took a couple breaths before Gavin was hyperventilating and sobbing.

 

“Hey,” Michael shushed. “I’m here Gavvy. You saved me. We made it out.” Gavin could only sob. This was absurd. He felt so helpless then. What if Michael died? What if his injury slows him down? Gavin’s now facing a completely new nightmare. He was so bloody scared to death of surviving through this nightmare. But what’s worse? Losing Michael. He had never been more terrified of anything like he is now.

 

He was scared to embrace Michael and hurt him. But Michael held him so close, almost pulling him down to his chest.

 

“We’re gonna be okay Gavin. I won’t leave you. I won’t ever leave you.”

 

And if Michael said it enough times, his nerves might just settle enough to believe him.

 

It wasn’t for a long time that Gavin stopped crying.

 

“Sorry...I didn’t mean to. You’re the one in the gurney, sewn up like a stuffed Teddy. I shouldn’t be the one that needs comforting.”

 

“Are you fucking kidding me? Ain’t no body scares Michael, Baby. Gavin, flesh wounds are flesh wounds. They make you feel cooler after they scar and you can tell a shitty story about it that no body wants to hear.” Michael went on noticing Gavin’s apprehension. “You know in Jersey, you were a fuckin’ busta if you didn’t have scars. If you didn’t have scars, you’re damn sure to get em’. People would rile in gangs just searchin’ for pale skinned busta’s.” Michael played up his Jersey accent a little extra, but it was totally worth it for the emerging giggle from his friend.

 

“Push over boi.”

 

Yup. Gavin had already swept that grief off. His usual asshole-self was scooting Michael over and climbing into bed. And it was kind of the best.

 

“Fuckin, asshole. You’re taking up 70% of the bed. And you’re a god damn twig!”

 

                    ***

 

“Two boys in a bed, ain’t that cute.” Geoff commented while snapping a picture.

 

“Aww, Mavin!” Jack cooed.

 

“Do you think we should wake them up?” The smallest Lad asked quietly.

 

“No, let’s let them be. Come on Jeremy.”

 

“Do you think I said something wrong earlier?”

 

“I think the boys are going through something that we can’t see.”

 

Jeremy thinks long about that statement.

 

“Ryan, are you okay?”

 

“Uh. Yes.”

 

“Uh. Nothing. You look like shit.”

 

“Gee thanks asshole. I feel like a real princess when you’re around.”

 

Jeremy sucked his teeth. “You know what I meant. Do you...do you maybe...”

 

“Hmm?”

 

Jeremy was fidgeting. Odd.

 

“I haven’t been feeling well either. I don’t really want to talk about why...at least not yet. Do you think that maybe possibly by chance that you could...sorta come over and like...stay for a day or two?”

 

Ryan’s brows raised at that.

 

“It’s just that I don’t feel safe and I know it sounds weird but-“

 

“Of course I’ll stay.”

 

“You will?”

 

“Yes. You thought I wouldn’t?”

 

“I don’t know. It’s a bit of a weird request right?”

 

“I don’t see why.”

 

It was that easy. Then again, it wasn’t like someone uptight or anything. It was just him and Ryan.

 

                       ***

 

The doctors estimated an amount of 4-7 days of recovery, explaining that they really didn’t recommend him being moved before those stitches settle in, breaking them could mean infection and more bills.

 

Michael was feeling fine. At least physically, his injury was fine. He was still restless as balls and emotionally scarred for life. He felt a slight itch, but that was the extent of his discomfort from the wound.

 

Even Gavin thought Michael was being a lune when he suggested leaving the hospital.

 

“What do you mean Michael? You have to stay and heal!” Gavin urged his mate. Surely, he should know better than anyone why healing is desperately important.

 

“Gavin, listen-“

 

“No Michael. Honestly. You need to flipping stay here and heal you’re F’ing body!”

 

“Are you done?”

 

“Well yeah.”

 

“It’s gone.”

 

...

 

“WOT.”

 

“Gavin! Shut the fuck up!” Michael shouted back before lowering his voice back to a whisper. “I think it has to do with it, ya know?”

 

“Oh, for real?”

 

“Yeah dude, how else?”

 

“I don’t know, it’s a good thing and all but it’s still bloody freaky.”

 

“Yeah dude, I know.”

 

They didn’t feel the need to go on. This wasn’t their first and last surprise from Outlast.

 

“So now what?”

 

“I say we show the doc my wound. He says, “Holy fuck Michael Jones! You’re free to go!” And then we head back to the Lad pad to sleep, eat, and hopefully prepare for the next night at Mt. Massive.”

 

“I don’t think the doctor is going to swear like that.”

 

“It was a joke, numb nuts. Jeez, try not to sound as dumb as you look.”

 

“Fair.”

 

Michael’s insults were like pebbles to him at this point. He could either see the façade right through them or simply hadn’t taken it personal.

 

                       ***

             ~Two days later~

 

“Hey Gav, whatcha doin?” The Jersey boy was in his boxers, voice scratchy, clearly having just woken up.

 

“I’m playing Outlast Michael.”

 

Michael’s eyebrows pinched up.

 

“I never thought I would hear those words.”

 

“Me neither.” Not in a million years would he do this. Not for anybody else. “I wanted to get a head start and map out the game. That way, we don’t get...you know.”

 

Michael appreciated the gesture. “Gavin, come to bed.”

 

Those words were straight out of a fantasy. Gavin felt the whole room go up in flames.

No. No, that was just his face. And his ears and neck and god, his whole bloody body was flushing at that sentiment.

 

“We don’t know when we’re going back in and we’ll need all the energy we can get.”

 

Gavin discarded the game. Letting his feet take him instead of his heart because God forbid if Gavin’s dumb heart thought too hard about Michael’s invitation, he might implode at the door.

 

Michael walked slow, making sure Gavin was right behind him and following into the room. The taller Lad gingerly undressed and slipped under the covers.

 

‘Hold me.’

 

‘Hold me.’

 

Neither one acted on their thoughts. It was too crazy. Too ludicrous to say out loud. Both of them fought, thought about their desires. Their needs.

 

‘No. This is enough.’ They both thought again.

 

                       ***

 

A couple days later, Michael had a familiar nausea running through him as he tried to lift his head.

 

Yup. Back in the shit hole.

 

“Hey, hey Gavin. Wake up shit head.”

 

“Wot? Mi-cool?”

 

“Did you sleep well?”

 

“Yeah. Ate well too.” He added, smiling for no reason in particular.

 

“Good. Let’s get going.”

 

A shiver ran down Gavin’s spine and anxiety prickled at his brain.

 

‘Yeah, I guess it’s time to move.’

 

They were walking rather quickly back up the stairs.

 

“This way,” Gavin reminded Michael. He was so different than when the two of them had gotten here. The Gavin he knew was never this confident.

 

‘I hope neither of us change for the worse...’

 

There’d be some PTSD for sure. But how much would that affect either of them? Would they have that much trouble continuing on in life after Outlast?

 

Their victory of getting out of that wet sewage hell hole was short lived when twin needles punctured their throats. Ice ran through Michael’s veins as he glanced over to Gavin. The Brit was throwing up.

 

Yup. Gavin hadn’t changed. He was disgusted by the colossal needle.

 

Unconsciousness quickly overtook them.

 

Again.

 

Fuck my ass.

 

                       ***

 

Gavin jolted awake with a start, it took a few seconds before his heartbeat left his ear drums. He was knocked out on this wretched bed, soaked in with blood and grime in several places. The room was covered in a similar material and more blood scripting.

 

‘Finish it.’ ‘Give him what he wants.’ and ‘Kill me.’

 

How lovely.

 

Fear really set it once he looked around to find himself Michael-less. He didn’t know wether to celebrate the fact that he had the camera, because if he had it Michael was out there helpless. The idea of it made him spring from the bed and peak out of the door.

 

A man with a mutilated face popped in front of his window and began bludgeoning the thin glass.

 

“Oh! Christ’s alive!” Gavin yelped, jumping back but the variant was already disappearing from sight.

 

He waited again before peaking out of his cell.

 

‘Shite. Oh shite.’

 

Gavin was trapped within a ward of jail cells. Variants loitered the first floor, walking amuck.

 

Parallel to his room was a caged hallway. It was dim but Gavin could make out the outlines of two familiar meat heads.

 

“He looks tasty.”

 

“He does. I’d like to take him first.”

 

“In what way brother?”

 

The taller, balder one laughed joined by what Gavin assumes to be the younger of the pair of monsters. A shiver trailed down his spine. Best to move on.

 

Several areas of the first floor wall was decorated with identical blood stains. It was from a patient whacking his head against the wall. Another guy in a wheelchair was muttering aimlessly to himself. The most ominous of them all was the variant who had been circling Gavin menacingly.

 

He felt so small.

 

“Michael?” He whispered as loud as possible.

 

No answer. Gavin began searching room to room.

 

                       ***

 

His eyes fluttered open only to be greeted by more grime and darkness. He was under a bed.

 

“Gavi—Ow! Fuck that hurt.” Michael slid out from under the bed.

 

The door was already ajar in the bloody room and Gavin was no where to be seen. Michael guessed he wasn’t the one who wrote ‘Kill me.’ Or ‘Finish it.’ on the wall.

  
Dick Twins were across the hall greeting him good morning. How neighborly of them.

 

“Why don’t you take this one instead?”

 

“Why the rush? We can take both.”

 

“You were always the smart one. Can we eat them afterwords?”

 

“It would be shameful not to.”

 

Michael mooned the twins, sticking his tongue out. Now well satiated, he moved downstairs.

 

“Gavin?” He said aloud.

 

Oh fuck. He hadn’t realized how good he really had it until the Brit wasn’t by his side. And shit his dick, the bastard had their camera.

 

He counted to sixty several times in an effort to wait for him. Then searched the rooms thoroughly before finally deciding to move. Gavin was not here.

 

He did almost shit his pants though when one guy snagged his shirt from within a locked cell he had been passing by.

 

He clambered into a crack in the wall that led up. Michael imagined the Brit having done this before him. Having to pull himself up. Gavin and his stupid tanned noodle arms would probably have no problem. He’d probably bitch about the grimy floors and shit himself at the upcoming jump-scare even thought he’d remember it.

 

The idea was somehow funny to Michael. Thinking about the Brit was better than worrying about what happened to him, he supposed.

 

“Silky, silky, silky, silky, silky, silky.” Someone murmurs.

The wet slaps of two bodies fills Michael’s ears. He remembers the jump-scare, still scary as fuck and his heart rate raised slightly but that was it.

 

Without the distracting scare, Michael’s eyes squinted in the dark to look about.

 

The ‘bodies’, or a corpse and a body, was the sound of one guy fucking a dead man. It...looked almost alive when being thrusted like that...

 

“Agh! God damnit! What the fuck is the matter with people? What, you want to watch too? You god damned sicko. What? You want to watch? It’s sick. You’re sick.”

 

Michael was not squeamish but seeing the nub of a headless man that was just being fucked?...It was like a freak accident. He couldn’t stop looking. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he notices about 20 bracelets around the deceased wrist.

 

Oh. Oh fucking shit.

 

He stumbled backwards almost falling back down where he came from.

 

His lunch upchucked all over the floor and splattered his shoes.

 

That variant was fucking Jess. This was Jess’ body. Carcass. Cracked open like a can of beans and spilling out. He couldn’t even tell what she had on for clothes, it was so soaked through with blood and her own entrails.

 

It was fucked. It was all so fucked. Somehow, Jess and Kayla always seemed so unreal. Like they had made it out or died long ago. But Michael didn’t realize...he could never imagine this is what he’d find. He doesn’t think about where Kayla might be. The only thing engulfing Michael’s thoughts is Gavin. What would these sick fucks do to Gavin?

  
If he kept on that train of thought, he would’ve died there. Letting the darkness suffocate him. So he pressed on.

 

Michael instead focused on keeping his feet moving. ‘Left. Right. Left. Right.’ And that kept him going. Kept him okay.

 

The fact that the next hallway is lit was a small relief.

 

He’s traveled to the other side of the ward. This was the caged hallway where Dick Twins plotted ‘Taking him’.

 

“You! Ah! Didn’t wait until I finished. But I saved some for you. Just wait...wait.”

 

Yup. He remembered that fucking creep. Still jumped.

 

He comes upon a security guard, or what was one, and searched him.

 

Michael feels a small amount of joy when he finds a battery.

 

“Fuckinnnn’ yoink!”

 

He genuinely goes to give the battery to Gavin, but his stomach bottoms out and he feels the blood leave his face as he remembers the situation.

 

“I’ll find you Gav. You little shit, better not be dead...”

 

Michael walks for several minutes before finding a flight of stairs.

 

“Down the drain. Down the drain. The only way out is down he said.” The mangled mind of a variant. He’s practically anorexic with no way to hurt Michael without a deadly weapon. He’s still fucking creepy though.

 

Michael jumps down, following the blood’s directions. Those whispered words suddenly vanish making the hall eerily silent.

 

“Gavin. Gavin oh please be okay Gavin. Please. I’m so scared. Please. Please...”

 

Michael’s stumbling through the dark at this point. He could go right or left but he vaguely remembers that going right is just a dead end. Probably some lockers but why else would he go that way?

 

He stares down either way for a long time. There’s something...not right though. Sure the game was different than before, but that door was never shut. Was it?”

 

It could be Chris Walker. Or Dick twins. Or someone else who wants to bip him.

 

But it could be Gavin.

 

It’s too much of a risk not to search the room so Michael proceeds right. It’s...it’s dark.

 

“They weren’t Beta’s. They were experiments! Conjured by him unwillingly.” Someone said within the cell. It was unnerving, that cell was rusty as fuck and probably couldn’t hold half of the monsters in here.

 

“Okay bud...I believe you.” He mutters in its general direction.

 

“Michael?”

 

...

 

“Gavin?”

 

For a few moments, Michael thought he had lost it.

 

It was Gavin, sitting in the second cell with the door shut. He raised to his feet and attempted to push open the door.

 

“Boy?” Gavin called again, this time laced with fear.

 

“Whats wrong? Can you get out?”

 

“I-I don’t think so! I don’t know what happened. I shut it myself!”

 

“Hey, hey.” Michael reached into the cell and cupped either side of Gavin’s face, greedily taking advantage of the fact that his boy was really here, really alive. “I’m here. I thought you were dead but you’re not and I’m not either right? So there’s that. I just gotta get a key or some shit and then we’re getting out of here.”

 

Gavin was so stunned he hadn’t reacted verbally. Instinctually, his face went lax into the soft touch. His heart beat was racing for an entirely new reason than earlier.

 

“But you’ll be alone Michael. I don’t want you to do this alone.”

 

“I don’t have a choice Gav. No ones gonna save us.”

 

“What if—if there is no key? What if this is it Michael?” The older Lad’s eyebrows pinched worriedly.

 

“Shut up Gavin.” Honestly, Michael hadn’t even thought of that factor. It seemed so easy just to say ‘It’s gotta be around here’. But it doesn’t. There doesn’t have to be a key. “Don’t say shit like that. I’ll be right back.”

 

With that, Michael slowly removed his hands from Gavin. He watched Gavin’s anxiety quickly return to his features.

 

“Here, take the camera.”

 

“You sure? I know it makes you feel safe.”

 

“You being alive makes me feel safe.”

 

“Alright. Stay here.”

 

Gavin was alive.

 

He kept repeating it like an anthem in his thoughts.

 

‘Gavin is alive.’

 

All he had to do was sort this shit out. Get a key, turn on the air lock while he was at it, and get the fuck outta’ here.

 

The Brit had rinsed the battery life, but that was alright. He had found two on the way here.

 

He desperately wanted to speedrun through this part of the game. Anything to get his boi back, but somewhere in the back of his monkey brain told him that was a bad idea. Maybe it was the blood splattered window that reminded him...a variant staring at him.

 

Oh yeah. He was in for it.

 

“I’d like you to stay quiet.” He mumbled.

Michael edged into the room the variant was in before escaping to the closet. To his disappointment, there was no key here, a canonical battery was sitting in its usual spot though. Canon batteries. Classic.

 

“I’d like you to stay quiet. I’d like you tO STAY QUIET.” He began shouting before charging at Michael, who stood stock still staring at the machete like an idiot. “I’D LIKE YOU TO STAY QUIET!!”

 

“Fucking Christ!” He yelped while running down the hallway. He planned to duck into the room around the corner when another variant came face to face with the Lad. He was screaming his lungs out looking for anywhere to go but they were on either side, approaching rapidly. Michael jerked the closest door handle, praying for it to open. He slammed the door behind him and began looking around. It had a single fucking locker.

 

“Fuck. My. Ass. You’ve got to be shitting me.”

 

They were going to look there for sure. He could’ve. He should’ve just jumped into it anyways but Michael decided, fuck it, and slipped under the desk. He hugged the office chair closer hoping to hide himself a bit more.

 

The door bust open and both variants stalk into the room. Which room was this anyways? He could swear he’s never seen this place before.

 

The first variant -of course- looks into the single locker and that motherfucker is just staring into it. Staring at his feet like a dunce. Michael turns on night vision to see in the dim room and holy shit. The key is in there, at the bottom of that rusty, lonely-ass fuckin’ locker.

 

The other variant is just...staring. He stares oddly at nothing, murmuring about...no. Michael’s not gonna listen to that. Its turning slowly every which way, glancing around the room and if they don’t hear Michael’s heart in his throat, they will certainly smell and/or see the shit spraying from his asshole in a couple seconds.

 

They linger for at least ten fucking minutes before walking off.

 

He was hyperventilating. Michael’s vision was becoming tunnel and blurred but he had to push on. He yanked the key and peaked through the door frame. Nothing left. Nothing right.

 

Breaths came in short bursts in between long phrases of suffocation.

 

God damnit. Not now.

 

Michael braces a hand on the wall, fumbling his shaken body further down the hall. He felt like the filthy pale sheetrock was collapsing in on him. Or maybe that was just his lungs. Michael was holding his chest when he finally made it to the air pump and slammed his palm down on it. He stumbled into one of the lockers, clutching his chest. If he had fucking two seconds to breathe, he might make it through this panic attack. The familiar variant walked about. It stared at the two lockers before yanking the door to Michael’s open.

 

Michael’s mouth flapped open and closed in a uselessly silent scream. He was about ready to smack Michael with a machete when the Jersey man remembered.

 

He was not bitch-ass Miles Upshur. He’s Michael Fucking Jones.

 

And so, with all the strength he could muster, Michael jabbed at the variant. And didn’t stop until it was stunned, wavering back and machete clanging to the floor. Man, he felt like he should’ve done a little more than stun but that was okay. Better than nothing. Michael swiped that machete and with the little energy he had, swung wildly and aiming for a big bald head.

 

The variant picked him up and over it’s shoulder with inhuman strength.

 

He couldn’t reach the head anymore and decided to jam the weapon in his back.

 

“You little bitch! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!” The voice was booming, blowing out his ear drums as he shoved it deeper. The variant dropped Michael, ruthlessly letting him fall on his side. His glasses skid across the floor. The ginger scrambled to his feet, tripping on nothing as he stumbled down the hallway and back into the small jail cell room.

 

His body protested, threatening to give out.

 

“Michael! Michael!” Gavin squawked.

 

Stupid cute Gavin and his stupid cute bird brain.

 

His fingers were numb, shaking as he fished out the key and handed it to Gavin.

 

The Brit hastily unlocked his cell, rushing Michael.

 

“Michael boy! Sit down! You look like you’re gonna pass out!”

 

“That’s because I am, numb nuts.”

 

Gavin attempted to take on the others weight but Michael sank them to the floor.

 

The Brit cradled Michael’s head in his lap.

 

“Boy! Boy?!”

 

“It’s okay Gavin. I’m just...hyper...ventilating.”

 

He was cringing and huffing like a mad man, pain etched on his face.

 

“Okay...right.” Gavin wasn’t all that used to this. He didn’t quite understand what to do.

 

Michael concentrated on inhaling and exhaling to his lungs fullest capacity. It caused him to recoil painfully but he tried to breathe through it.

 

“It’s...it’s okay...Michael. We’re gonna be okay.” Gavin tried to assure him with a voice that was not at all assuring. His long fingers fell to dark reddish brown curls. They were big and short looking but when Gavin let his fingers rake along them, his digits would catch them and show off their hidden length. Bloody hell it was soft and thick and Gavin just wanted them all to himself. Every strand.

 

Gavin’s fingers dig into Michael’s scalp, massaging his head. It had the ginger reeling, slowly but surely his vision came back and he could breathe.

 

He watched Gavin. Watched him play with his hair and be absolutely captivated. He knows, because he’s been there. He is there.

 

When the Brit notices that Michael is observing him, he flinches harshly and pulls away. Gavin thinks Michael will get angry or yell.

 

An unsatisfied groan slips by Michael’s lips.

 

“Gavin.”

 

“Yes Michael.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“For what?”

 

Michael can’t help the cheesy smile that curls at his lips. He shrugs.

 

“Wot? Michael!”

 

He sits up from Gavin’s lap and pushes off of the ground.

 

“Michael! Wot do you mean you bloody bugger!”

 

Michael just smirks and shrugs again.

 

“You’re a...You’re a–!“

 

“A what Gavin? What am I?”

 

“A bastard. A bitch bastard.”

 

“Oooh, ya got me Gavin.” Michael was outright laughing at him now. But how could he not?

 

Stuttering, red faced, embarrassed Gavin?

 

That was cute as hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note that Chapter Summeries and Beginning Notes are canon to story. End Notes are specifically for me to talk to you guys!
> 
> If you have any criticism, see any mispells, notice something OOC or have any suggestions please comment!


	5. Beta 56: Run II—Part 2

The both of them reveled I’m being united, although there was a bad feeling in the air that the night wasn’t nearly over.

 

“He’s watching you.” Gavin read out loud.

 

“What?”

 

“Look, on the window.”

 

Repulsive green smoke puffed into the air lock.

 

“Christ,” Gavin coughed.

 

“God damn it. That tastes like shit!”

 

Gavin laughed aloud. “What if that’s just fecus.”

 

“Like they canned some farts and said let’s just rip one on whoever comes through?” Michael smiles. “Fuckin’ got ‘em. Take that!”

 

“Yeah! Oh oh! Or maybe they have a shite room where they keep a bunch of fec and just let it sit in a hot room and it’s vented through here in the form of fecal matter.”

 

“You’ve thought about this one in depth.”

 

They turn the corner. At the end of a long puke yellow hallway is the Dick twins.

The only thing separating them is another flimsy rusted doorway.

 

“We gave them a chance.”

 

“That we did.”

 

Their voices were practical growls, deep and cynical. Both Michael and Gavin become queasy at the site of them.

 

“Fuck. I think I’d prefer Chris over these cunts.”

 

“Really?”

 

They twitched unnaturally and erratically despite their calm voices.

 

“Yes. Wouldn’t you?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I like that one. Bird brain with the tight ass.”

 

“That’s weird. That one is so odd looking.”

 

“Dude, he just fuckin’ dissed you.” Michael tried to make light of it. And if it were just a video game still, they’d be on the floor rolling.

 

...But the way they were...eyeing him up. Gavin felt like he could crawl out of his skin.

 

“Come on Gavin.”

 

“What?”

 

Michael snagged the Brit by the hip and ushered them to the window.

 

Gavin’s mind sort of fizzed out and all of his senses were whittled down to the fingers curled around his hip.

 

“Come on. I don’t like the way they’re looking at you.”

 

A smile like wild fire spread across Gavin’s face. That same heat dispersing into his tummy.

 

Michael was so lovely.

 

“Pay attention dipshit. We didn’t come all this way just for you to slip off the edge.”

 

Michael leads first, he braces his forearm on the window sill.

 

“Shit...this looked a lot easier when Miles did it...”

 

It took several minutes for Michael to work up the courage and heed his shaking limbs.

 

“Quick Gav, I don’t have all that much stamina for this crap.”

 

Gavin was not as brave.

 

Michael had to proceed into the opposing hallway without the Brit. By the time he was standing where Dick Twins were, Gavin still hadn’t budged.

 

“Michael it’s scary!”

 

“Everything in here is scary! Just do it!” He flailed his arms angrily before gripping the metal gate.

 

‘What if...’

 

He gave the door a push and it swung open easily.

 

At that moment, didn’t know what was scarier. Not knowing what would happen next? Or the fact that those brothers...could’ve opened this door at any point.

 

Gavin seemed to realize the same thing.

 

“Don’t...don’t think about it. Let’s just...”

 

“...Yeah...”

 

They entered another...security room? Doesn’t matter really. It’s tattered and filled with computers that are somehow still running.

 

Michael’s eyes darted toward the prompted video across the room.

 

“Oh! It’s another one of those Michael. I love these videos. I wonder if we’ll see different people again or those two birds from earlier! What was their names? Jayla and Cass?”

 

Michael swallowed thickly. There really was no need to explain to Gavin what he saw. It would only cause more damage.

 

“Jayla and Cass? You fucking moron. Do you really think it’s Jayla and Cass?”

 

The video was completely black and fairly quiet save for a few shifting noises here and there. A click and shuffle is heard as if someone were running with the camera. If you listened closely...you could hear their haggard breathing.

 

“Jess?”

 

It was Kayla.

 

“Jessica?” She called again, brokenly.

 

They could finally see when Kayla dropped the camera and began sprinting down the hallway without it.

 

“What the? What in God’s name is she thinking.”

 

“I don’t know, it doesn’t really matter.”

 

The video had a whole minute more but Michael closed it out.

 

“Michael!”

 

“Shhh. Jeez Gavin. You’re gonna get us killed one of these nights with you your big ass mouth.”

 

“Sorry...”

 

Michael snatched Gavin’s hand, effectively wiping that stupid frown off his face.

 

They traveled through a broken air lock, it hadn’t farted on them which was mildly disappointing to Gavin.

 

The erratic growls of Chris Walker filled their ears. The boys were just in time for the beheading. It didn’t phase them all too much if either were being honest.

 

Not the worst that could happen in here.

 

A security guard was rotting at the end of another caged hallway. The skin on his face was grayish and falling off the bone.

 

Gavin gagged. And kept gagging.

 

“I got it. I got the card.” Michael wheezed.

 

“That’s rank.”

 

“You think that’s bad. Don’t forget what’s ahead.”

 

“What’re you on about?”

 

“The sewers?”

 

“Oh shite! Oh bugger my ane!”

 

“Oh no. He’s reverted back to fake gibberish!” The ginger giggled.

 

They came upon the showers, unlocking the door without much hesitation. Either they were getting braver or just getting impatient being trapped in this God forsaken place. Probably a little bit of both.

 

The halls grew pitch, the boys squished together once again to look through the infrared, though seeing was a whole lot of nothing. All you had was the distant wails, pleading to be ‘no’ madly.

 

Michael thought of Jess again. He couldn’t stop thinking of her. Of what her last few moments sounded like. Did she plead for her life? Or did she cry against her rapist...

 

“Michael,” Gavin tugged at the hem of his shirt.

 

One of the Dick Twins was approaching, barely in sight of the cameras vision.

 

“Yeah, yeah.” He physically shook himself out of the depressing reverie. “Hey. We don’t have time for you to be scared this time.” Michael ushered Gavin to go first, not wanting to take that risk.

 

“My god, they vanished.”

 

The variants chatted among themselves, voices traveling up and down the halls. They both grew paranoid. How close were they? Is now the time to go?

 

“I detect sarcasm.”

 

“It was my intention.”

 

“They think we’re assholes.”

 

“Or stupid.”

 

“Let’s pull them in and tear their asses open.”

 

Gavin’s shimmying in front of a window that bursts into shards of glass, a knife hacking at the air wildly. Michael’s a few inches behind it, watching in horror.

 

Violent screams erupt from Gavin, one of his hands slips and subsequently flails wildly.

 

“GET A GRIP AND SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU MORON!” The older spat hysterically.

 

When Michael peaks up at the window that separates Gavin and himself, one of the brothers is staring down with dead eyes. Beady and soulless and staring into Michael like he can see through him.

 

 

“Wait. Just a minute.” The other one says, and the taller twin looks away from Michael, walking to the left.

 

“Why?”

 

“I like fucking with them.”

 

“Haha. Get it?”

 

“Yeah. I get it. Because we’re going to fuck them.”

 

Gavin’s miraculously alive, clinging so madly to get his bearings he’s sure his knuckles will snap. He claws at the window sill, painfully dropping to the floor beak first again and as noisy as fucking possible.

 

“Asshole! Run!” Michael’s rushing to climb in, helplessly watching both twins approach them casually.

 

Run. Run and don’t look back.

 

Out of the showers, slam the door, into the security room, slam that door too because holy balls.

 

Dread bubbled like vile in their hearts. They both knew who was coming.

 

“Go on then, now or never.” The Brit spat bitterly.

 

“Right.”

 

The diseased hand of a security guard covered the button to proceed. Michael slapped his own hand over it, surprising him with a squelch and splattered blood.

 

“Why did you do that!” Gavin yelped.

 

“I don’t know!” They didn’t have time to be grossed out. Alarms sounded off. Chris Walker stood in the air lock, looming like the menacing bastard he was before beating in the glass.

 

“Up!” Gavin cried. At least, he thought it was up. Right? The vent to which was suppose to be their escape hadn’t opened.

 

“J-just rip it off!” Michael shouted hysterically. Chris Walker stepped one big sausage foot into the room.

 

“Gavin! Gavin! Gavin! Open the fucking vent!”

 

“I can’t! I can’t Michael!”

 

The Jersey boy hopped onto the desk and yanked that fucking cover to the floor.

 

“Go! Go! Go!”

 

Chris Walker was like a wrecking ball, leaping to reach them.

 

Gavin’s gangly limbs were shoved in.

 

“Pull me up! Gavin! Pull me up!”

 

Gavin, poor thing, didn’t have a bit of strength to him. But his arms gave something for Michael to grip onto and hoist himself up. They were safe for all of two seconds before hopping back down into the grimy dim hallway. Michael doesn’t remember the upcoming plummet but Gavin, he does. And bugger him if they were going to willingly be scorched and dropped into a pit. No. He was taking matters into his own F’ing hands.

 

Gavin takes Michael’s wrist. He doesn’t dare look down, because if he glances down he’ll never be brave enough for Michael. So he jumps, blindly. Tugging his boy off the edge with him into a pile of corpses.

 

Michael’s too shocked to scream expletives at the Brit but he’s sure it’ll come soon enough.

 

“Son of a bitch!”

 

Michael fingers are oozing with mulched flesh and God knows what kind of bodily fluid.

 

They made it. Without fire. Without spraining something.

 

That was the extent of Gavin’s bravery. He’s upchucking his lunch once again.

 

“Gavin, you fucking animal. You could’ve killed us!”

 

The Brit wipes remaining throw-up from his lip when he looks over at Michael, smiling back at him.

 

“That was the coolest thing you’ve ever done. That was brave as fuck Gavin, I wouldn’t have the balls to do that.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Shut up you little shit. And you wonder why I don’t compliment you!”

 

They’re soaked in blood and chunks of human flesh. He can’t stop gagging.

 

Chains rattle as heavy feet hurdle over a distant obstacle. They’re in another prison ward and Chris is booming down the stairs.

 

“Little pigs. Little pigs. I’ll get you this time.”

 

Gavin’s gags are loud. A practical ‘come fucking rip our dicks off’ alarm for the Variant. 

 

‘Think Michael. Really fucking think this time.’

 

Chris is on their heels, going in circles chasing them around the first floor but Gavin’s tripping over himself with each wracking cough.

 

“T-take your shirt off!”

 

Gavin screeches “ _WHAT?!_ ” but listens to his command for once. Their feet rattle with each thunderous step of Chris Walker.

 

“ _Give it to me! Give it to me! Oh my god! Oh my god! **Gavin!!**_ ” He whines.

 

“ _Michael_!” Gavin is two steps ahead of his boy and turns abruptly, doubling back to the stairs. Chris Walker thrusts monstrous fingers towards them, narrowly missing Gavin.

 

“ _JESUS_.” Michael struggles to keep. “ _Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!_ ”

 

“When I say, throw it!”

 

They’re coming up on a pile of junk. “Oh shit.” Michael hisses out, puzzle pieces working together in his brain.

 

“ ** _NOW!!!_** ” Gavin screams and Michael’s sure that he’s lost his hearing after that one. He takes one glance at the beast before chucking the gory cloth at that ugly motherfucker’s mug. He almost forgets to vault, his converse skidding across rubble.

 

**_“WHORES!! YOU’RE ALL WHORES!!!”_ **

 

The ground quakes violently when the behemoth trips over the petite desk and rubbish. It crushes under his weight.

 

Every muscle in their body’s was protesting, exhaustion biting at their muscles. Michael was losing feeling in his toes and fingers.

 

‘Oh fuck. Just don’t stop. Just don’t stop. Not now.’

 

They practically fell into a padded cell, dragging themselves under the bed. For once, thank god, this one fucking thing went smoothly. For once, they fit under the bed.

 

Gavin didn’t dare open the camera, too scared the screen light would give them away. The only thing they could do was listen. Listen to Chris Walker rush up the stairs. Muttering to himself.

 

Chains rattled. They were so close. So damn close.

 

Gavin could scream. Scream just to put them out of their misery. To end this nightmare. For anything!

 

Closer.

 

“Little pigs...little pigs...you **_WHORES!_**.......I find Little pigs. Not this room...heh he...”

 

Whimpers prickled at Gavin’s ears underlied by a slew of wheezes.

 

“Michael.” He said, whispering so low he was unsure if the word had even got out. “Michael,” he called again.

 

He couldn’t see Michael. And Michael couldn’t see him. But that was irrelevant. It was all irrelevant.

 

Gavin groped the void with all the cautiousness in the world, his fingers prodded squishy flesh.

 

And held.

 

That’s all he needed to do. He held Michael’s face, a cheek obscenely soft. Too soft for this dastardly place.

 

“It’s okay love, take a breath.” Gavin whispered.

 

“WHORES!! WHORES!! WHORES!!”

 

Gavin flinched, willing himself to focus on Michael.

 

“My Michael. Breathe for me.”

 

Bitterness dampened Gavin’s thumb.

 

“Its okay. My brave Michael. It’s okay to cry. You’re so brave for us.”

 

Chris Walker’s picking off rooms at random.

 

They needed an eternity more than they had. More time, more courage, more of each other. Both of the boys knew they didn’t have those luxuries.

 

Michael blanketed the hand on his face with his own, lacing their fingers, and wordlessly left the room.

 

The variant saw them from across the way and charged, bowling a locked door over as if cardboard.

 

They ran, holding each other’s hand for dear life. Running all the way back around was painstaking and nearly will-breaking. They’re grasping for their pathetic lives and tumbling through a bundle of junk. Falling to the ground because...because that’s all their limbs could manage.

 

Their hearts were thunderous in their ears, Michael nor Gavin would hear if Chris Walker had bowled over this measly pile of furniture. Michael for the first time was covered in a sheen of sweat and unable to curl in on himself.

 

Gavin’s hair was matted, stuck to his forehead. He couldn’t feel anything. He just managed craning his neck to actually see if the rest of him were still attached. Beside him, Michael had passed out.

 

And Chris Walker?

 

His vision was blurred and he was damn near deaf but he knew. He knew Chris Walker had vanished into that void abyss.

 

Waiting for them on the other side of Night Three.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo...I’m late. It’s my second deadline and I’m late. Right? 
> 
> ANYTIME that it is 12:11pm (past my deadline) and I have not updated, there will be a bonus chapter.
> 
> If you have any suggestions, see something OOC, mispells or incorrect grammar, have a question or just want to directly talk to the author, please let me know! I’m always up for it!  
> Enjoy the new chapter(s)!


	6. Beta 62: Run III

Ryan was graced with 6 peaceful nights. 

 

In his third dream, he had started right where he left off. Ryan was starting to become much more aware of where he was. In a dream. He’d wake up in wherever this place was, nauseated and usually with a small migraine. But he couldn’t grasp many things, like who he was. His name was Ryan. That he knew, but not much else.

 

It was morning and he had several days of grinding away at work. Right now, work was committing small crimes like stealing candy from kids, graffitiing public buildings, and generally just having a bad attitude towards people. He couldn’t quite understand why being a professional klepto was even a job in the newspaper, but he honestly felt no need to complain.

 

It had been peaceful despite being in this nightmare town again. What was this place called anyways?

 

Ryan worked on himself. Trying all sorts of things from computer programming to working out. He learned to repair appliances around the house and cook and even play piano. He was picking things up so fast. Everything was going by quick until the dreading moment of his cell phone going off and déjà vu was sucker-punching his sickly stomach.

 

It was Veronica.

 

“Sul nexy, wa mumf fweeb jom?”

 

“Sure, I’d love for you to come over!”

 

Ryan, in this world, had serious game. Or maybe Veronica was just easy. It was probably the latter. This time, he made linguini for dinner.

 

He doesn’t remember remodeling his bedroom but very conveniently, it was the nicest and best furnished house in the room. Veronica commented on it, she even began the flirting first this time.

 

She was giving him a massage. 

 

“Would you like to woohoo?”

 

Second time’s the charm because Veronica was ecstatic. It was the best day of her life. They woohooed four times. Without hesitation, Ryan found himself asking Veronica to try for a baby.

 

‘No. No. No. Please. Please don’t make me do this.’

 

She was elated. Spouting “Loob” this and “Loob” that.

 

Ryan screwed his eyes shut once they began again, hoping to escape the nightmare. How did he find himself in this predicament? Making love to someone he didn’t love. Sure, it was hard to wake from a nightmare, but it wasn’t this hard. That didn’t stop him from trying. Mentally willing himself to wake up.

 

‘I can still think.’ The revelation hit him.

 

‘I can still think!’ He cried in his own mind.

 

He searched. He tried desperately to remember.

 

‘I am Ryan Haywood. I am Ryan Haywood. I am Ryan Haywood.’ He thought it until he could reach it. Until the name jogged, sparked, grasped some sort of person to think of. Anyone but the woman under him.

 

The first person he thought of was Geoff.

 

“Oh yeah,” he moaned. Geoff would treat him right. He’d go nice and slow just like he needed. Make love to Ryan. Whisper incredulously delicious things until he came hard. But alas, Geoff didn’t have a pussy, and he couldn’t picture fucking Geoff to be honest. Out of panic, he searched for someone else. He couldn’t...he couldn’t figure it out. Who was he? Did he like someone already? It wasn’t a woman.

 

Michael? Oh yeah. Michael was cute. And Gavin! Michael and Gavin were certainly one hell of a pair. Can’t get one without the other. But very cute Lads. Michael’s a spit fire, which Ryan could appreciate. And Gavin, well Gavin somehow always had that ability to take your heart when you never wanted him to. But he wasnt having a threesome right now, his immersion broke again and all he could hear was the pleasured moans of Veronica. She was going wild.

 

Jeremy.

 

God. Jeremy Dooley. He’s probably not even gay. He’d be tight, too tight for Ryan to fathom. But he’d love to bounce for Ryan. He’d beg to please the Gent. Jeremy was handsome and rowdy and yet so lovely and small. Obedient when he really wants to be.

 

Ryan felt a little embarrassed at how fast he had come. And what he had come to...but hey. It was better than staring at Veronica that whole time while...while he had impregnated her.

 

Veronica was somehow already excited and sure of her impregnation.

 

“Nooboo! Nooboo!”

 

‘Idiot girlfriend.’

 

He was bitter. Fuck this. Fuck it all. He wanted...so much more than this. He turned his back to the chick and to his surprise and pleasure, she took the hint. Awkwardly saying goodbye before heading home.’

 

Ryan shut his eyes.

 

‘Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Please wake up from this.’

 

Ryan didn’t wake up in Austin, he was still in his lonely house of Foundry Cove.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus chapter!!! 
> 
> WHOOP WHOOP!!!
> 
> Also, if someone manages to translate what Veronica says in this chapter, I’ll post another bonus chapter!
> 
> If you see something OOC, misspells or improper grammar,  
> have a suggestion or questions, or simply just want to talk to the author, please comment away! I love reading what you guys have to say and interacting with the audience!  
> Enjoy the bonus chapter!


	7. Beta 62: Run IV

It was stupid. Right?

 

Jeremy liked his hair. Or lack there of.

 

It’s not because he’s bald. Surely not. He wouldn’t care about something like that. But it’s not like he has much else going for him. He’s loud. Louder than most people really care for. His mouth is crude and straight outta’ Boston.

 

And him? He was nothing like Jeremy.

 

Refined. Tasteful. He’s the picture perfect of ‘southern charm’. Jeremy stared down at his beer belly and prodded the chub there. Was he fat? He was fat.

 

The Lad looked over his desk for what must have been the thousandth time that day.

 

“Alright Geoff.”

 

“You leaving Ryan?”

 

“Yup, I’m recording The Know and then—“

 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.We get it Ryan! You’re important.” Geoff takes a light dig. “Guess I just have you chumps left to record with.”

 

“Actually, boy and I have an Immersion to shoot too and then I’m off the the podcast.”

 

Geoff replied with an exasperated yell.

 

Welp. There goes that chance. Jeremy spent most of the work day with Ryan and he just couldn’t use his fucking words.

 

Damn it.

 

It probably didn’t matter anyways. Even if he had asked Ryan out or whatever he thought would happen when his stupid mouth opened...Ryan wasn’t interested. It was abundantly clear that the Gent has never mentioned male suitors before but on the contrary, had mentioned several past girlfriends.

 

“Cheer up Jer, we’ve got off topic. You can drink your tiny bald ass off.” Geoff patted his shoulder. He felt somewhat insulted, unbearably disappointed, and slightly comforted by Geoff’s understanding of the situation.

 

“You’re right. I’m going to get wasted.”

 

“There you go.”

 

                      ***

 

“Oh for sure, there have definitely been times where we’ve shot a game and...”

 

Jeremy’s processing system was rapidly deteriorating.

 

What the fuck was Michael saying?

 

He was sandwiched between two gents. Neither of which was the Gent he had been pining for all night, but no less enjoyable.

 

“‘Yeah, here’s the video! You’re in it!’ and you’re like...”

 

Jeremy’s vision went increasingly blurry and the drinks in his stomach began to rebuke.

 

He’s out.

 

It’s been a while since Jeremy went black out drunk. Let’s see. It hasn’t happened on the podcast as of yet. This is a first.

 

When Jeremy regains consciousness, he’s sitting on a dingy couch.

 

Oh god.

 

“Please tell me I’m not in some dude’s house.”

 

Jeremy wasn’t the one-night-stand type of guy.

 

But drunk Jeremy on the other hand was an animal.

 

He stood from the couch when the door bell rang, scaring the shit out of Jeremy when it really shouldn’t have.

 

A door clicked shut from down the hallway.

 

Ryan emerged, walking to the door. “Who could that be?”

 

“Ryan?”

 

The Gent didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at him, in fact, and proceeded to open the door.

 

“Sul Sul! Waskee ba ah orbo!”

~Hi! Welcome to the neighborhood!~ A brunette man greeted.

 

Oh. I get it.

 

...

 

I’m insane right?

 

No. Wait. That’s not right.

 

“Ryan?” He called louder this time. But no response.

 

He’s dreaming. Lucid dreaming. And Ryan’s here? That’s fucking awesome, or it would be if Ryan acknowledged his existence. Even in his dreams, Jeremy doesn’t earn a glance from Ryan.

 

The Gent chats up all three of the neighbors.

 

Jeremy’s eyes flick over to the blonde. She’s pretty, curvy, in shape.

 

Has a vagina.

 

Everything Jeremy doesn’t have.

 

_Bing!_

 

 _‘Beta 62 is currently on autopilot. Use the device in your pocket to interact!’_ His pocket buzzed.

 

“What the– what is happening?”

 

Jeremy plucked the mobile device from his pocket. It looked like a regular iPhone.

 

“Fuck. How do iPhones even work.” He mumbled. At the bottom row was ‘settings’, ‘calls’, ‘work’ and ‘home’

 

He messed around with the apps before finally getting to the ‘Social’ application.

 

What’s this?

 

_Bing!_

 

_‘You can toggle autopilot at anytime!’_

 

“Ok, thanks, shut the fuck up lady. Let’s see...”

 

On screen were three large boxes with each of the neighbors faces. He selected the man labeled ‘Frank’ and a slew of options filled the scream making Jeremy’s head spin.

 

‘Friendly->Brighten day’

 

“I really like your clothing style!” Ryan complimented the brunette.

 

Frank responded ecstatically, full attention toward Ryan.

 

“We can’t have that, Ryan the straight guy isn’t interested Frank. Join the club.”

 

‘Veronica->Funny->Flirtatious joke’

 

“There we go.”

 

Ryan turns his attention to Veronica and boosts up the game, making light jokes wherever he can fit before eventually inviting them all in.

 

Bile settled in Jeremy’s throat. It was dark and dank and evil. It was envy. Jealousy at its finest.

 

“Give it up Jeremy. Dumb...idiot stupid dumb.” He muttered. There’s nothing he wanted more than to just be wanted by the Gent. Maybe if he worked out more...maybe if he let his hair grow out again...maybe if...

 

No. Ryan is straight.

 

That’s that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know you guys came for the Mavin chapters but they’re action packed and much MUCH longer. I don’t want to rush one out and make it super short or poorly edited so here’s another Beta 62! Get used to Ryan and Jeremy because they are apart of the main story too!
> 
> Also, could someone let me know if the page breakers (***) are centered? I’m broke and upload from a mobile device and have no idea what it looks like on a PC. 
> 
> Comment any misspells or mistakes, grammar, something OOC, have a suggestion or just want to to talk to the creator! And don’t be afraid to give criticism! It helps a lot!

**Author's Note:**

> So some of you will have noticed a few (or many changes). Originally this was suppose to be a short work, a little bit of slow burn. I’ve decided to rework the plot slightly with the same general direction, some title changes, in hopes of making a deeper fic that you as readers can really commit to. Again, not really changing most of my original ideas, but this will be more than a cheesy love story. Take a seat. 
> 
>  
> 
> If you have any criticism, see any mispells, notice something OOC or have any suggestions please comment!


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